Owner Of The Road
by Momentary Dead King
Summary: You ever wonder why Trish and Christian act like nothing's ever happened between them lately? Maybe there's a reason for that "break up", if you can call it that... (One-Shot)


Owner of the Road

By: Momentary Dead King

Disclaimer: I don't own the wrestlers or their real life personas. I only write about them, that way, Vince McMahon can't sue me. The Poem I use in this story is called "Dueña del Camino" (or "Owner of the Road" translated) by Antonia Darder.

Author's Notes: This is Trish's Point of View (POV). Since the poem was originally in Spanish, I'm using the translated version here. The poem will be in _Italics._

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Sitting here, I've always wondered what problems men seem to have with me. When they look at me, they see a woman with a doll face and a beautiful body. They think "Oh, what a pretty girl, she should be easily to manipulate, right?"

Please.

Ever since I came into this company, men flocked to me, sweet talking me at first sight. When I finally let someone close to me, men seem to become different. Suddenly, they think I should become weak and melt at their feet, meeting their every whim and demand.

They all thought that.

Test. Albert. Val Venis. Vince McMahon. Chris Jericho. And now……. it's Christian.

_Companion_

_no__ longer I want to impress you_

_with__ my body or my mind_

_or__ to teach you that I am strong_

_neither__ to take your words_

_or__ to do me as your fool_

Christian. Quite an interesting little mess I got myself into with _that_.

At first, I thought teaming up with him was a way to break me out of the shell of "Good Little Girl" that I'd been put in. I was the sweet, smiling beauty queen that everyone loved. I couldn't stand that. When I spoke, it didn't matter. People were too busy staring at my chest to give a damn.

So I thought, "Why not do something to make people listen?"

So I did just that, turning on someone who, apparently, truly cared for me.

After it happened, I did what Christian told me. "Act like you want it rough. That'll really get Jericho pissed!" he said. And when I gave my reasoning, people listened. Or, at least, I thought they did. The "Slut" chants fuelled me. It was indication that they were paying attention to me for something other than my body. It felt good to me, that this newly earned attention was finally coming my way.

Then, Christian had to go get himself injured. And leave me behind to take the brunt of it.

From then on, all I heard was his complaints, bickerings, and bitchings all day long. "Wah, wah, wah, Jericho injured me!" is all I heard. I tried to be supportive but I guess he forgot that I had a career too, and a title reign to worry about.

Soon, his complaints and demands became insufferable. He wanted me to _visit_ him, so I can wipe his ass after him. "Trish, why haven't you called?!?! I told you to do this, that, and the third for me! ME, ME, ME!"

Quite frankly, I became tired of his bullshit.

_No longer I want to be a slave_

_by your kisses and smiles _

_or__ to create your good aspects _

_neither__ to seek the_

_great__ respect _

_or__ to do me as your toy_

So when he finally decided to get off his ass and come back, I didn't bother seeking him out. Ignored his calls and didn't bother to say hello. Naturally, he goes "Oh, what a slut!"

But isn't that the reason he wanted me in the first place?

When I dedicate myself to something, I go for it 100. I don't care if it's for the "right" or "wrong" reasons. I won't compromise myself for anyone. I'm not going to change anything about me to get a different impression. If men want to think that I'm one stereotype, then so be it.

They're the ones who fall on their asses when they see me for who I really am.

_No longer I want to walk my life_

_with the man as guide_

Maybe that's why relationships don't work with me. Men are always too busy seeing me for someone I'm not. God forbid, a strong-minded, beautiful, and gasp blond woman actually exists!

_I want in time to take my steps _

_well__ or badly I haul them _

_and__ with those we accept that the force companion_

_is achieved only in the people_

_to take its own mind_

So now I walk on, living my life as my own. No one will ever use me as their doll again.

_And thus I will do it…_

Never again.


End file.
